


No Peace

by omgsaveme



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 07:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15926030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgsaveme/pseuds/omgsaveme
Summary: You’re dealing with a breakup you never expected, right when you thought your relationship were thriving. Your thoughts keep going to Bruce - did you missed the signs this was coming? have you not seen that he had fallen out of love with you? In the end, you’re trying to find a little peace.





	No Peace

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small series that somehow found their way inside my head after reading way too many of @emilyevanstons‘s headcanons. My babe Bruce deserves a lot of love, but I got him in the middle of some angst first. My huge thank you to @queenofalotofdifferentworlds who kindly beta-ed this and gave me some inputs. Thank you so much! The tittle were inspired by Sam Smith’s song No peace (in case you wanna hear). 
> 
> To find me on tumblr: @splendor-e
> 
> If you find any additional triggers, please don’t hesitate to tell me.

You were doing things on automatic. Taking your social outfit from work, folding it into what should have been the worst attempt you ever made at folding something, stuffing them into the closet and then putting on the gym clothes and throwing a black shirt much larger than your size on top because you had the exact disposition equal to zero to go look for something else and her material was light and nice. Putting on the sneakers was probably the hard part, because you really needed to focus on that and then stuffing the headphones into the highest volume you could handle and going to the empty gym, thanks to the uncommon hours.

Your mind kept going to Bruce. It was almost unfair the way it wandered about other matters and then, the smallest of details made you think of him. You set the treadmill for twenty minutes and somehow it came to your head that it was almost nine o'clock at night and Bruce would probably be in the lab. Had he eaten anything? Had he talked to anyone? Had he even thought about you? The disloyal order of thoughts was disturbing, and all that had been enough was the perception of time. You almost gave up right there to try to do any activity - your mind needed to be occupied, drained, erased, and repetitive activity was not really the most advisable.

Somehow, the routine helped you establish some resemblance of control, calm and progress, and you decided to just change the workout. Something quick, with few repetitions and too much weight, something that made you focus on the fact that you needed to have the strength or the weights would fall on you and you would be hurt. An analogy that certainly sent you back three days ago, but you were determined not to go there. So you forced yourself to focus on the present, even if you had to begin to think on all your commitments for the following week - day by day and hour by hour; avoiding at all costs returning to Bruce. Although every moment that your legs threatened to not finish the series the image of him crossed your eyes in a fleeting moment. Your brain was clearly your enemy.

The heavy circuit helped. A quick glance at the electronic clock on the wall by the mirrors and you had exactly thirty-seven minutes with your mind in a bruce-free state. Your body ached now and you were sweating to the point the drops slipped into your eyes and your shirt was clinging to your back, but there was a kind of serenity about it all. You had fulfilled your task - one more day without speaking and meeting Bruce. 

From the clear way your legs were threatening to bend, you would have to take a quick shower, chew anything that would be ready in five minutes, and ensure a full night’s sleep with the help of some calming pill. You were refusing one more night awake lost in the analysis of a bleak moment; your life could not stop for you to discover what had happened, or at least that’s what you were convincing yourself.

The alternative was excruciating and would drive you crazy, you were sure - after all, how could you analyze nine months of a relationship just to seek its flaws? Devote hours and hours and perhaps days only to minucious research of the moments when something went wrong. Moments that you missed while completely lost in the incredible feeling of being in love. Devote yourself to the destruction of your memories next to the man you thought was the right one, looking for signs that this was coming and you didn’t see it. Find the time when Bruce decided you wouldn’t work out - where he decided you needed to end.

Your chest tightened and for a moment you had to hold onto something, refocus on your already decided step by step, as soon as your breathing returned to normal. A few seconds of deep breaths that almost made you cry as they reminded you exactly of whom you were trying to escape, you stepped past the pain directly into the elevator. It was bad enough that you lived in the same place and you made a small mental note to look for an apartment in the city. The job proposal at Stark Industries had come with the benefit of living quarters and meals because of the need for you to move to NY and the long hours, which you had loved, but it was no longer feasible. You would pay any money and handle any crowded public transportation before you lived near Bruce Banner at that moment. You needed distance. Perspective. Anything that would give you some peace of mind and take away the faulty possibilities running your head. That made you stop worrying about him because he notoriously didn’t usually take good care of himself when in moments of anxiety - but, was he at such a moment? He was the one who had decided to break up with you.

You stepped out into the small apartments of the employees on the opposite side and several floors below the Avengers’ penthouse and would have run to your little flat if your legs weren’t trembling. You walked quickly there, got JARVIS to clear your access and almost stumbled inside, removing your clothes in a hurry and without care where you threw them as if you hurried and throw yourself headfirst under the shower you could manage to escape the questions threatening to make their paths back to your head.

Just a little peace - it was all you wanted. One night of deep sleep after two without even napping. One free of tears, in deep sleep that would help you analyze things better the next day. Only that.

When you threw yourself headfirst into the shower, it almost seemed like things could be your way. The water was warm and relieved your aching muscles and you tried to focus only on that, the drops washing your sweat and calming your body. No thoughts outside of taking a shower and plans to eat some quick dinner and sleep. Thinking in detail about how you would do it just to keep your thoughts from drifting back to the scientist. You washed your hair with just shampoo and used one of the refreshing body oils. Stepped out of the shower happily curled up in a robe with a towel on your head and went straight into the room to put on some underwear and a comfortable set of sweats. While combing your hair and going to the kitchen to find out what could be done in 5 minutes besides one of those cup noodles.

You felt like your stomach had fallen in front of the image of someone standing near your couch. Your heart seemed to stop and then shoot to the point that your sweatshirt felt very hot and your head began to ache. You took a deep breath before entering the kitchen.

"What are you doing here, Tony?“ You’re surprised and hurt. He was not exactly the person you would expect to see in the middle of your living room, especially when he was dressed like that. Wearing his trademark suit over shirt and red sunglasses inside. More importantly, you were pretty sure he wasn’t in your personal quarters access list and even so were still inside your flat. Also, Tony wasn’t one to go off of his way to deal with employees, even if they were someone who he got to see a lot due to the whole relationship stuff, so his presence was starting to pass from surprise to full blown alarm. "How the hell did you get in?”

“Oh, please. Jarvis gave me access. I am the owner of… well, the whole building.” He waves a dismissive hand while turning around and then crossing his arms, the whole air around him completely changing. “We need to talk about Bruce.”

“Tony, please. Just don’t.” Your voice was little more than a murmur and you tried to focus on opening your cabinets and looking for the cup noodles you knew you had around and then putting water to warm up on the stove. Of course you knew Tony Stark wouldn’t let it go. That was not his profile.

“What have you done with my Brucie?” His tone was hard and worried at the same time. He continued around your sofa, sunglasses on and shoulders straight, arms crossed like he was very disappointed.

“What?” The hard tone he used made you stop right as you picked up the Cup Noodles, looking at him from the side of the cabinets door and the kitchen counter in your surprise. Tony looked stern, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his indifferent face austere.

“The man is buried so deep in work he hasn’t even changed his clothes, he hasn’t eaten anything that isn’t the power bars there. Whatever this love field you two have going on, it’s time to end it.”

“…What?” You understand what he is saying, but it currently makes so little sense in your mind you cannot comprehend it.

“I don’t care what made you two fight, but I think the point is made. Now, just be a dear and fix my Brucie, please.” He looks more… understanding, now. His tone is more focused on appearing friendlier than annoyed with the situation - not specifically with you.

“Tony… I… can’t.” You’re trying to take a deep breath and calm down while putting the water on the fire to heat up. You can feel the tears burning in your eyes and try with all your might to contain them. The image of Bruce locking himself in his lab seems engraved behind your eyelids, and senseless guilt seems to flood your chest and make it difficult to breathe again. It doesn’t make sense to feel that way, but that does not stop you from feeling it.

“C'mon, Y/N. This behavior is ridiculous. The man’s sorry, I’m telling y-” Tony advances straight into protective mode and the tears behind your eyes seem impossible to contain, so you close your eyes. They keep coming down anyway. Through a throat almost closed in pain you try to squeeze the words out.

“Bruce broke up with me.”

“What?” He really looks surprised. You try to forgive him for the way he handled the situation with that in mind, but your tears keep falling. They are slow but steady and you try to catch the wave of sadness that plagues you as deep as you can.

“He left me a letter.” You sound as hurt and disappointed as you feel, your hands seeming to have life all around you as you signal the letter still on the counter because you didn’t have the guts to throw it away. Tony has the exact sensibility of zero about asking you before reading it. But you’re don’t pay attention to that. You focus on your breath to be able to speak again, Tony looks at you as if nothing you just said makes sense and he is shocked. “So you see… I cannot fix him for you. This-This time he has to fix himself.”

“Y/n-”

“No, Tony. I-I… I’m not okay. I understand he must be feeling bad but I’m the one who took the blow. Please, just… leave.” You can’t hear him right now. At this point, everything around you seems to be hold by a fragile line of security that you do not really own. Tears burn in your eyes and are cold on your face and you need to focus on seize the wave of meaningless guilt that still seems to cover you. Although Bruce was the one who decided to finish, a part of you is stuck in looking for the moment in which you failed; where you screwed up. It’s a sickening search that you cannot stop and you keep on hurting for him.

You remain silent for a long time. In fact, it seems Tony does not dare to speak again, which is surprising. Or maybe he just doesn’t know what to say. But then he leaves.

The steam from the boiling water is what makes you move. You turn off the water and wash your face in the kitchen sink, wiping it on your sweater. You pour the hot water in the noodles cup and with the rest you prepare a tea in complete and absolute automatic mode. You take them into the bedroom and put them on the desk next to your bed and sit on it under the pretext of doing something. That’s all it takes and you are crying again, rivers and rivers of tears that do not seem to cease for a long time until they do, without much explanation. You wipe your dripping nose on the bedclothes and wipe your eyes on the pillow as you lay down. What you may have done wrong scares you because where before you had thought to be small moments of playfulness and encouragement to do different things together with Bruce, you now see yourself as annoying and inconvenient. Maybe you were not as happy as you thought. The tiredness is buried so deep within you that the little minute you close your eyes leads you to a deep sleep of exhaustion.


End file.
